


Nagito's Plan

by greenful



Category: Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: Character Study, Gen, Spoilers, but not the focus of the story, slight one-sided komahina
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-21
Updated: 2017-04-21
Packaged: 2018-10-22 05:23:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10690623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/greenful/pseuds/greenful
Summary: A look into the mind of Nagito Komaeda as he executes his plan to eradicate the remnants of despair. Very heavy spoilers for Dangan Ronpa 2.





	Nagito's Plan

The others were so standoffish. Understandable. Why would they hang out with trash like me? Funny. As soon as I’m actually doing something worthwhile they shun me even more. I’m astonished at how much they can miss the point.

  
Maybe it was the explosives. If they had an ounce of sense, they’d understand. These steps are necessary to destroy the Ultimate Despairs. Of course, the true Ultimate Despair died a long time ago. I carry a constant reminder. I flex my left hand, just to feel it move. I taste bile in the back of my throat as I think of what I did to it in reality. It’s disgusting to think I’d ever fall into despair. Never mind the others, I can never understand their minds. But surely I can understand my own, right? So how then, could I have ever fallen into deep enough despair to have done that?

  
It doesn’t matter anyway. Once my plan is through, all of us will perish, and the Ultimate Despairs will be gone forever. If all goes as planned, it will be today. Better check the fire grenades once again. I prepared them a while ago, they may have been moved or tampered with.

  
In the side room, scrambling to find the one I prepared. Finally I find the one missing the blue foil. Perfect. It’s still there. I re-seal it, just getting a smell of the deadly poison makes me retch. I try not to think of the next time I’ll encounter the stuff. It occurs to me I should ensure only the fire grenades are available to the others. The plan would all fall apart if they actually extinguished the flames with a fire extinguisher or something. It all relies on the hot, burning flames vaporizing the poison so I can choke on its fumes as it brings me to my death, and -

  
And then I realize that there’s really nothing to be afraid of. I actually start humming an upbeat tune as I make my way to the plushie warehouse. It’s really not much of a problem. In fact, why would I think of what’s coming next as a problem, or an ordeal? This is all for the sake of hope. The ultimate hope which will conquer despair. I really am lucky to be the one to bring this about. What happens to a piece of trash like me should really concern no one. No one could care about something like me anyway. So this really is a win-win. To think that the final fight against despair could be won with only one as worthless as me as a casualty.

  
Only two steps into the warehouse, and it hits me. Hinata will also be a casualty. I pull at my hair, and bite my tongue to keep from screaming. How could I have missed that? How much of a worthless idiot am I to have overlooked this? Damn it, it’s so obvious now. He was the Ultimate Hope once. It won’t matter that I’m going to die, but he was the Ultimate Hope. Izuru Kamukura, Hajime Hinata, Ultimate Hope, lowly reserve course student. Holder of every talent, and equally talentless trash. This puzzle, this enigma, the only one to show me a shred of care since the first trial. And now he’s going to die because of my stupid, stupid plan.

  
I dig my fingernails into my palms, take a deep breath, and spit out the blood from my bitten tongue. It’s alright. Because he’s no longer the Ultimate Hope. Now, he’s a symbol of despair’s victory, Junko Enoshima’s obedient little lapdog. There’s really nothing else I can do other than finish this plan. Looking at it, it’s pretty well made.

  
It doesn’t really matter when I set up the music, but I might as well start it now. It’ll give me something to focus on other than the claustrophobic thoughts crushing my mind right now. I pick up the mp3 player and select the hymns playlist. Turn it on at full volume. I wince, it hurts my ears, but I keep it on. I’ll need something to cover up the screams later on.

  
With the atmosphere thus set, I go about setting up the rest of the preparations. Careful to ensure none of them fall down accidentally, I line up the Monokuma flats, a set of monochrome dominos. The first one is lined up with the door so that when it opens, the flat falls. The last one is lined up so that it will knock over the lighter I’m about to place.

  
I take the lighter out of my pocket. It starts first try. Lucky me. I use it to burn the end off one rope. Then I just place the lighter such that if it falls, it’ll set the curtain on fire. With everything up front in order, I head behind the curtain.

  
Good. All the supplies are here. Knife, hollowed out Monokuma plushie, ropes, and the spear. Time to get to work. I start with the easiest part, draping the spear’s rope over the rafter. I check the lighter one more time, then get to work tying myself up.

  
The legs are easiest to tie up. With both hands available, it’s not too tough. I pause before tying my next arm. I take this moment to choose which arm to tie up. The tied up arm will be the one to hold the spear. I choose the left for that. The one forever marred by the taint of despair will be the one to redeem us. I grasp the spear’s rope, pulling it taut. Looking up, it’s centered right over my stomach. Good. I finish tying up my left hand, duct tape my mouth shut, and turn my thoughts to what comes next.

  
The knife. The thought of using it on myself had occurred to me before, but under such vastly different circumstances that I could only laugh. In the past, cutting myself would have only been the pathetic self-pity of a worthless human being, but now? Now it’s the decisive strikes which will end the rule of the remnants of despair. How could such a righteous act end in anything but utter rapture? Confident, I raise the knife, and plunge it into my thigh.

  
White hot, searing pain. A scream is caught in my throat, but my mouth is taped shut. I look to my leg. I don’t bleed right away. For a moment, I stay still, stunned at what I’ve done. It so effortlessly sliced past the flesh and muscle, that it was shocking when it stopped suddenly against a hard surface within my leg. I suppose it must be bone. I go to remove the knife, in order to get more done, but it won’t come out. It’s caught.

  
I try to wiggle it out. Each movement the knife makes severs more muscle fibers. Blood begins to ooze out as it gets less and less stuck in the bone. Finally, it comes out, and with it, spurts of blood, staining the ground. The tip of the blade is bent from its encounter with the bone. Note taken. I’ll make sure not to hit the bone any other time. Not to avoid pain, someone as worthless as me deserves it anyway, but rather for the sake of efficiency. I only have so long to finish this setup.

  
I opt more for slashes than stabs. More visually impactful, and I’ll be able to inflict more of them with less risk of death by blood loss. Wounds up and down both legs, and all over the left arm. I’m careful to not damage it too much, as I still need to hold the spear’s rope.

  
Whole body hurts. Can’t let that stop me. They could come in at any second. I don’t know how long I’ve been here. Minutes? Hours? Days could have passed, and I wouldn’t be able to tell. What if they never came by? If they never noticed the setup? How could I hope to purge the remnants of despair?  
But of course, they will find me, and the plan will work. If there’s nothing else I can believe in, I know I can believe in Hope and in my Ultimate Luck. They’ll find me, and the plan will work. It’ll all work out in the end. I believe that too much for it to be untrue.

  
All that’s left is the hand, and then to wait. I wedge the knife into the plushie, and lift my hand, fully resolved. I smack my palm straight onto the blade. It stabs right through. I throw the plushie away, I have no more need of it. And now to wait.

  
I wait and wait and wait. They’ll come. Worry is gone from my mind. All that resides there is anticipation and pain. The pain doesn’t go away. I thought that when I stopped hurting myself I’d stop hurting. That’s naive, isn’t it? Doesn’t matter. It’ll all stop soon enough. And then Hope will win a decisive victory over despair.

  
The door slams open. I hear the gentle tap-tap-tap of the Monokuma cutouts falling over one by one. The lighter hits the ground with a clack. The curtain goes up in flames, and I know that it’s the end. I hear their panicked cries as they try to find a way to stop the fire. I hear one of them mention the fire grenades in the storage closet. Perfect. All I have to do now is wait.

  
It seems like an eternity before they return. I hear the crash of the fire grenades breaking apart, and some faint sizzles of fire being extinguished. Eventually it hits me. The noxious scent I encountered back when I was checking the fire grenades visits me again. Out of instinct, I try to gasp for breath, but my mouth is blocked. Frantic inhalations through the nose. I know it won’t help, I’ll just die sooner. But I’m fine with that.

  
The last thing I feel is my lungs shutting down, and my grip on the rope loosens. Then, darkness.


End file.
